Madness
by lord-of-all-kobuns
Summary: The sequel to Immature, where Apollo and Klavier make some brownies for Ema. Maybe I'll spin-off to some Apollo/Klavier/Ema-centric stories later.
1. Madness

Klavier Gavin was bored. His life had been rather unexciting as of late, and he was sick of it. He lay on his office couch, staring at the ceiling, and he sighed. Every day was the same: Wake up, go to work, get yelled at by that Fraulein detective, play guitar, go home. Everything had lost its appeal; even the band was boring.

Well, Klavier thought to himself, if there was no fun to be found, one must make some for oneself. Maybe he'd call Apollo, and they'd figure out where to go from there.

Klavier smiled at the thought of Apollo. He'd always liked the pint-sized attorney, and a few weeks ago, they had pulled a brilliant prank on the Fraulein detective. Since then, they had become very good friends. Thinking of the prank made Klavier even happier. Oh, how he loved irritating Ema Skye. He should do it again.

Klavier sat bolt upright, the light of mischief returning to his eyes. He knew exactly what he would do. Ema had been annoying him recently, and the last prank had been so much fun…

He grabbed the phone and dialed Apollo's number. There were two rings, and a distinctive squeaky voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Guten tag, Herr Forehead!" Klavier said.

"Hello, Klavier," Apollo replied. "How can I help you?"

Klavier cut to the chase.

"Well, Apollo, I'm bored," he sighed. "Nothing seems right with my life, and I have this mad urge to do something drastic, something fun."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"As a matter of fact, there is. I was thinking we should make some brownies for the Fraulein detective. Would you like to help, Herr Forehead?"

There was a pause.

"When do you want me over?"

"As soon as possible."

--

Apollo walked into Klavier's office to see the prosecutor dressed in an apron and a tall chef's hat. Various ingredients and cooking utensils littered tables.

"Ah, Odeko-kun, glad you could make it!" Klavier said from under the chef hat. "The cafeteria has kindly loaned me the use of their stove."

Apollo stared at the various jars and containers littered about the tables. He couldn't figure out why Klavier was suddenly doing something so nice for Ema. He moved behind the counter.

"Now, let's see if I remember everything from Home Ec.," Klavier muttered, looking at the ingredients. "We have eggs, flour, milk…Ah, and, of course, the secret ingredient."

He bent down and picked up a small jar. Apollo stared at the label, which read "ExLax". He stared at his friend, a smile slowly forming on his face.

"Are you seriously going to…" Apollo whispered.

Klavier smiled.

"You got it, Flathead."

--

Detective Ema Skye kneeled on the ground at People Park and examined a footprint. She stared at it for a while before reaching into her lab coat for her footprint indentifying kit. She poured plaster into the print, and used a battery-powered hair dryer to quickly dry the plaster. As she worked, she suddenly became aware of two people looming over her. Slowly, she looked up.

"Oh, it's you two," she grumbled. "What do you want?"

Apollo and Klavier stood side-by-side, bearing a tray of brownies.

"Well, Fraulein," Klavier said, flashing his winning smile, "I feel bad. You always do so much for us, and people don't seem to appreciate it. Apollo and I decided to make you some brownies to show our support."

Ema was taken aback. She slowly stood up, and, smiling, took a brownie.

"That's really nice of you…" she muttered through a mouthful of food.

"Oh, it's no trouble, Fraulein," Klavier said, still smiling.

All three stood in silence. Apollo was shifting his weight from foot to foot, waiting. Suddenly, Ema froze. Her eyes grew very wide.

"What's wrong?" Apollo asked.

"TOILET!" Ema shrieked, and ran off to the porta-potty in the park.

Klavier snickered as she slammed the door. He glanced at Apollo.

"Ready, Herr Forehead?" he asked. "On three: One, two…THREE!"

The two friends tore forward and smashed into the porta-potty, which fell sideways.

"DAMN IT!" came Ema's voice from inside the porta-potty, which was currently rolling down a hill.

Apollo and Klavier ran.


	2. Alternate Endings

"The Insane Ending"

"**The Insane Ending**"

Ema reached the porta-potty, and slammed the door. She locked it, pulled down her trousers, and sat down. The ketchup packets under the seat exploded, and the slippery substance caused the loosened toilet seat to shoot out from under her bottom and smash into the door. Ema fell into the hole and got stuck.

"I HATE YOU BOTH SO MUCH!" she screamed. Outside, Klavier and Apollo got the hell out of there.

"**The Manella Ending**"

Klavier watched Ema hasten to the toilet. She slammed the porta-potty door shut.

"Hang on a second…" Klavier murmured.

A strange beeping sound was coming from the porta-potty.

"What have you done to th-" Ema started to say.

The porta-potty exploded.

"**The Lady or The Tiger Ending**"

Ema ran to the porta-potty, but it had two doors. And she looked at the doors, and looked back at Klavier. Behind one door was a toilet. Behind the other was a mad, vicious, evil, bloodthirsty, voyeuristic teenager. Ema looked at Klavier again, who motioned to the left.

But which did she pick?

The toilet?

Or the teenager?

"**The Dibbler Version**"

Klavier Gavin was bored. His life had been rather unexciting as of late, and he was sick of it. He lay on his office couch, staring at the ceiling, and he sighed. Every day was the same: Wake up, go to work, get yelled at by that Fraulein detective, play guitar, go home. Everything had lost its appeal; even the band was boring.

He decided to read a good book.

"**The Lady or the Tiger Ending, Part 2**"

Ema looked at Klavier again, who motioned to the left. Ema reached her hand out and opened the left door.

The world exploded.

"**The RTC Ending**"

Before Ema took a brownie, an alarm sounded.

"Warning! Warning! Warning!" a mechanical voice rang out throughout the land. Klavier looked up.

"Was zur Hölle?" he cried.

A woman in glasses, a man in a white shirt, and a cop walked up to the three people in People Park. The glasses woman flashed her ID card.

"Hello, my name is CMOT Dibbler," she said. "This is Steven Richards and Sergeant Slaughter, and we are the RTC."

"What does that stand for?" Ema asked.

"We're the Right to Censor," Steven Richards spoke up now.

"Is this going to take long?" Apollo asked. "We have a story to complete."

Sergeant Slaughter smiled.

"Well, therein lies the problem," he explained. "We don't want you to finish this story. It is not acceptable."

"Not ac- what?" Klavier asked. "Hey, Herr Cop, don't blame us, blame the narrator."

"A brilliant idea," Dibbler said, and reached through the screen, causing Matthew Jessup to become a character in his story.

"Ow!" Matt said. "What just happened?"

"We are the RTC," Dibbler said. "We have been observing you for most of the year, and we have deemed you… unacceptable."

"I see," Matt said, looking at the nametags the members of the RTC were wearing. "Wait, CMOT Dibbler? You're-"

"I see you remember me," Dibbler said, smiling.

"Of course I do!" Matt exclaimed. "You sure made that day more exciting."

"That wasn't my intention… Doccywoccy," Dibbler spat.

"Ha, 'Doccywoccy'," Matt said. "I love that name."

"You weren't supposed to like it," Dibbler said, starting to get frustrated.

"Well, you see, Dibbles," Matt said, smirking, "I…do. I love it, and so does everyone else."

Dibbler was incandescent with rage.

"Steven!" she screamed. "Kick him!"

Steven Richards just stared.

"What are you waiting for?" Dibbler shrieked.

"Uh, Miss," Richards said. "…Look."

He pointed, and everyone turned. Silhouetted against the sun stood three figures. One of them, a hulking man with long hair, sunglasses, and blonde moustache, stepped forward. Everyone knew who he was.

"Oh my God!" Matt said, in his best Joey Styles impression. "It's-"

"I got three words for you, brother," said Hollywood Hogan. "We're taking over."

Ron Simmons sidled up, and stared at the confusing mass of humanity.

He scratched the back of his head.

He looked everyone in the face.

He squinted his eyes.

He looked around again.

"DAMN!" he said, and left.


End file.
